Normans. They were inhabited by the last remnants of the Saxon armies,
who still disputing the conquest, persisted in leading a life opposed
to the laws of the invader. Every where driven out, pursued, hunted
like wild beasts, they here, favoured by the shelter of the forests,
had been able to maintain themselves in force, under a sort of military
organisation.
Among the chief outlaws, Adam Bel, Clym of the Clough, and William of
Cloudesly, were not the least celebrated. Bound together by the same
destiny, they had taken an oath of fraternity, as was customary in the
12th century. Adam and Clym were not married, but William had a wife
and three children, whom he had left at Carlisle. One day he resolved
to visit them. He set off in spite of the counsels of his companions,
and arrived at night in the city: but being recognised by an old woman,
he was denounced to the magistrate, his house was surrounded, he was
made prisoner, and a gallows was erected in the market-place on which
to hang him. A young swine-herd informed Adam and Clym of the fate
of their brother in arms. The sentence was about to be executed, when
the two friends of the condemned man appeared in the market-place, and
a sanguinary combat ensued, which terminated in the delivery of the
prisoner. The three outlaws, however, worn out at length with their
wandering life, decided upon making their submission. They arrived in
London with the eldest son of William of Cloudesly, entered the king’s
palace without uttering a word to any one, proceeded into the hall,
and, kneeling on one knee, raised their hands and said. “Sire, deign
to pardon us.” “What are your names?” demanded the king. “Adam Bel,
Clym of the Clough, and William of Cloudesly.” “Ah, you are then those
brigands of whom I have heard? I swear to God, you shall all three be
hung!” They were immediately arrested by the king’s order; but the
queen, moved by the unhappy fate of these three men who had voluntarily
surrendered themselves, interceded for them and obtained their pardon,
but on condition that they should be victorious in a shooting match
with the king’s archers.
Two branches of a hazel tree were fixed in the ground in a field at a
distance of twenty times twenty paces. None of the king’s men at arms
could hit this mark. “I will try,” said William, and he bent his bow
and took so true an aim that the arrow split the branch. “Thou art the
best archer that I have seen in the whole course of my life,” said the
astonished king. “To please my sovereign lord,” said William, “I would
do something still more surprising. I have a son of the age of seven
years: I love this son with an extreme tenderness: I will attach him
to a post in the presence of every one, I will place an apple upon
his head, and at the distance of a hundred and twenty paces I will
pierce the apple without wounding the child.” “I take thee at thy
word,” said the king; “but if thou failest, thou shalt be hung.” “What
I have promised,” said William, “I will perform.” He fixed a stake in
the ground, fastened his son to it, and, having made him turn away
his head, placed the apple upon it. After taking these precautions,
William went to a distance of a hundred and twenty paces, bent his bow,
besought all present to keep strict silence, and let fly the arrow,
which pierced the apple without touching the child. “God preserve me
from ever serving as an aim to thee!” exclaimed the king. The skilful
archer, his brethren in arms, and his wife and children, were conducted
to the court, where the king and queen loaded them with favours.
This trial of skill of William of Cloudesly still dwells in the memory
of the people. Several English poets make mention of the fact, and the
old English ballad has furnished Sir Walter Scott with many particulars
of the scene of the archery meeting in Ivanhoe.
Let us here conclude, only making the remark, that at the end of the
_Recherches critiques sur l’histoire de Guillaume Tell_, by J. J.
Hisely, this author has quoted the documents, so called authentic,
which the supporters of this story have published; and he has also made
mention of the chapel built on the Lake of Lucerne, to the memory it is
said, of William Tell.
Hisely also shows that none of these alleged proofs stand the test of
strict examination, and that some of the documents are even forgeries.
PETRARCH AND LAURA.
A. D. 1325.
Petrarch was born at Arezzo in 1304. His father Petracco sent his
son at an early age to study law at Bologna, but an irresistible
passion for poetry, which soon shewed itself, led him to neglect
more profitable studies for the works of the poets and philosophers
of antiquity. At 22 years of age Francesco di Petracco (for such was
his name) had lost both father and mother, and was left without the
means of subsistence. He took up his abode with his brother Gherardo
at Avignon, the last residence of his father, and instead of striving
to increase their very small income by entering upon some lucrative
profession, Francesco spent his whole time in reading Virgil, Cicero,
Horace, and _tutti quanti_.
One morning early, as Petrarca (the name he had now adopted, probably
out of vanity) entered the church of the nuns of Santa Clara, he was
struck, say his biographers, by the dazzling beauty of a young girl,
by the sweet expression of her face, the grace of her form, and the
tastefulness of her costume.
Her eyes were blue, say some; they were black, say others; and the
reader will see presently that this is not the only point on which
opinions differed. This beauty was Laura, or Loretta de Noves, or de
Sade, or Desbaux; for there is great uncertainty even regarding her
name. Petrarca, we are told, took her for his ideal. He may really have
been in love with her, or he may only have conformed to the fashion of
those days, when poets were in the habit of selecting some imaginary
object for their devotion and adoring it in a poetical sense. Thus was
it with Cavalcanti, Montemagno and Cino da Pistoja, whose Mandetta,
Lauretta, and Selvaggia were only poetical fictions and so was it in
fact with Dante himself, whose Beatrice was a child who died at nine
years of age. Thomas Keightley, in his _Tales and Popular Fictions_,
and other English authors, adopt the latter sceptical opinion. “I
confess,” says Keightley, “that I am not indisposed to regard the
Beatrice of Dante, the Laura of Petrarca, the Fiammetta of Boccacio,
and all those ladies with significant names, who were all first seen in
passion week, and whose lovers all survived them, as being more the
creatures of air and of romance than of real flesh and blood.”
Petrarca, at the time we speak of, was twenty-three years of age; and,
after composing a great number of sonnets to his lady-love, he left
Avignon, went to Paris, and travelled through France, Flanders, Brabant
and Germany. It has been remarked as a strange coincidence, that during
his absence he wrote only four letters to Avignon, and but one to
Laura. Ginguené, in his _Literary History of Italy_, has collected from
the works of Petrarca a few stray sentences on his mistress, but the
poet gives no particulars of her life, and, neither in his Italian nor
in his Latin compositions, does he speak of the family of his beloved,
although she is almost the sole subject of his songs.
It is not then to be wondered at if his later biographers are left in
the dark about Laura, notwithstanding that contemporary authors must
have been acquainted both with the lover and with his mistress.
Baldelli, a very partial commentator on Petrarca, is obliged to
confess that the poet was by no means faithful to his divinity; but
that another, whom he loved after a less ideal fashion, presented him
with a daughter, who afterwards became the consolation of his old
age. “_Francesco nei passati falli ricadde, e dal suo commercio con
femina impura ebbe una figlia appellata Francesca che fu poscia tenera
compagna e fedel sostegno di sua vecchiezza. La madre fu rapita da
morte dopo la nascita di Francesca, con grand dolore di Petrarca._”
The Abbé de Sade, in his learned researches upon Laura, shows, that
besides this daughter, the poet had a son named Giovanno. This young
man was legitimatised by Pope Clement VI. in 1348; and in the papal
brief he is mentioned as the son of unmarried parents: _De soluto et
solutâ_.
Baldelli believes that both children were by the same mother. Francesco
Petrarca, who is characterised by Voltaire as a genius eminent for his
constant repetition of the same thing, died in 1374, aged seventy.
Nearly a century after his death, in 1471, an anonymous author, in a
_Vita di Francesco Petrarca_, pretended that Pope Urbanus V., with
whom the poet was an especial favourite, wished to give him Laura in
marriage, but that Petrarca declined, saying that the fountain from
which he drew his amorous inspiration for the composition of his
sonnets, would fail him entirely were he to be united to the object
of this love: “_E quantunque gli_ _volse essere data per donna, ad
instanza di Papa Urbano quinto, il quale lui singularmente amava,
concedendogli di tener colla donna i beneficii insieme, nol volse mai
consentire, dicendo che il frutto che prendea dell’ amore, a scrivere,
di poi che la cosa amata consequito avesse, tutto si perderia._”
Notwithstanding the improbability of this confession, seeing that Pope
Urbanus did not mount the pontifical throne until after the death of
Laura, we may still infer from it that in the first years of the 15th
century a very exalted opinion was not entertained of the sincerity
of Petrarca’s passion. The mention of all these circumstances, no
doubt instigated Tomasini, who was the most devoted of Petrarch’s
biographers, and who looked upon the poet almost as a saint, to
adduce a reason for his remaining unmarried to the end of his life.
“He believed,” says he, “that marriage would extinguish his love.”
“_Censebat nempè isto nexu amoris puritatem obfuscatam iri, neque
cultum animi ita fore constantem, juxta illud Tibulli: Semper in
absentes felicior æstus amantis._”
In 1539 Squarciafico and Nicolò Franco attacked with much humour the
morals and the life of Laura’s adorer. Ercole Giannini followed in
the same vein; and the circumstances we have already mentioned tend
to prove, that although Petrarca may have been a great poet, a great
politician, a savant, and a prolific writer, there is more than one
reason for believing that he was not altogether the Platonic lover some
have represented him to be.
With regard to Laura all is doubt, obscurity, and hypothesis. The
traces left of her were so faint, even in the century in which she
lived, that Baldelli says that doubts were even entertained of her
existence. “_Tanto s’oscurò la sua memoria, che nei due secoli in cui
l’Italia negli enti allegorici e di ragione, andava smarrita, alcuni
dubitarono della esistenza di lui._” (See _Petrarca e sue opere_.)
The Abbé de Sade, in his memoirs on the life of this poet, says also,
that in Italy the beautiful Laura was supposed to be an allegorical
personage.
The endeavours made by Alexandre Vellutello and others to establish her
existence, led to no positive results; for in the certificated of birth
from the years 1307 to 1324, the name of Laura, although frequently met
with, can never in any one instance be applied to Petrarca’s mistress.
Vellutello tries to make her out the daughter of Henri Chiabau, a
seigneur of Cabrières, Monsieur de Bimard in his _Mémoires_, pretends
that her father was Raybau de Raimond; the Abbé Castaing, of Avignon,
published in 1819 a new view, and maintained that Petrarca’s divinity
was a certain Laura Des Beaux, and that his devotion to her was purely
Platonic. The Abbé de Sade tries to prove that she was the daughter of
Audibert de Noves.
Some assert that Laura never married, and died a virgin: according to
others she was married at fourteen years of age to Hugues de Sade, a
nobleman hard to please and given to jealousy, and that she bore him
eleven children, nine of whom survived their mother.
If, on the one hand, Laura has been considered a myth, many writers, on
the other hand, say that she was far from insensible to the passion of
Petrarca. Her reputation is lightly treated in a manuscript written by
Luigi Peruzsi, of which Mr. Bruce-Whyte has made use in his _Histoire
des Langues Romanes_. This view of her character gave rise to a very
interesting article in a newspaper of Vaucluse entitled: “_L’Écho
de Vaucluse_,” of the 11th September 1842. We can nowhere find any
authentic testimony nor any decisive evidence wherewith to dissipate
doubts or to confirm assertions on this subject.
There are three portraits of Laura extant all of which differ
materially in features and in costume. In 1339, Simon of Sienna, who
was employed to decorate the episcopal palace at Avignon, is said to
have painted Laura’s portrait, and to have presented it to Petrarca,
with whom he was intimate.
Richard de Sade brought another portrait from Avignon to Rome, and gave
it to Cardinal Barberini. It has no resemblance whatever to the first.
The third is in a manuscript at Florence.
Marsand in a special dissertation on these portraits, rejects the two
first and only admits the latter, engraved by the celebrated Morghen.
Here again we are met by doubt and obscurity.
In the French Imperial Library, there are two manuscripts of the 15th
century containing a Latin treatise by Petrarca: _De contemptu Mundi_,
which apparently affirms that Laura was the mother of several children,
as above stated. In this treatise we read that she gradually approaches
her end, and that her lovely form has suffered much from her frequent
confinements: “_Morbis ac crebris partubus exhaustum, multum pristini
vigoris amisit corpus illud egregium._”
In the work of Olivier Vitalis, published in Paris in 1842, which
contains researches into almost every opinion concerning Laura and
Petrarca, that of her marriage is rejected: “_Des couches fréquentes_,”
says the author, “_des chagrins domestiques peuvent convenir et
s’appliquer à la Laure de De Sade, mais non à la Laure célébrée par
Pétrarque, qui mourut dans le célibat_.”
Several Italian authors declare on the other hand that the objection
against Laura’s celibacy is made by Petrarch himself, who, in his Latin
Dialogue with St. Augustin, frequently makes use of the word _mulier_,
in speaking of her. The dictionary of Vanieri, and others, tell us
that: “_Fæmina propriè sexum significat, mulier quæ virgo non est._”
Unfortunately, our poet, in all matters appertaining to his mistress,
has intentionally, or by chance, only very vaguely mentioned, by
allusions, or by figures of speech, dates or circumstances bearing
reference to her. Besides the striking difference that exists on many
points in the manuscripts which have served as foundations for the
various editions of Petrarca, it must be confessed that nowhere have
primary and incontrovertible facts been produced on which to ground a
true and faithful biography of Laura.
It is stated that an allusion to Laura’s death, and burial at Avignon,
is to be found in a manuscript Virgil which belonged to Petrarca,
and which is preserved in the _Bibliotheca Ambrosiana_ at Milan;
but learned critics, among whom we may name Alexander Tassoni, one
of the most reliable authors of Italy, A. Vellutello, and others,
consider this note as very apocryphal, and even as a forgery: for the
writing has never been proved to be that of the poet, and moreover
this memorandum is in open contradiction with the sonnets of Petrarca
written on the spot where the lovers first met.
It was not until towards the beginning of the 16th century that the
desire sprang up among the Italians to know who the Laura really was,
that had been the theme of song for twenty years. Alexander Vellutello
made two journeys to Avignon for the express purpose of collecting
information regarding her, and from that time innumerable discussions
arose from all quarters. Tomasini, Maria Suarez, G. Ferrari, F. Orsino,
Muratori, &c., on the one side, and Vellutello, Gesualdo, Tassoni, le
Bastie, &c. on the other. But they were all staggered by a remark made
by Giacomo Colonna, Bishop of Lombez, with whom Petrarca lived for some
time, and who consequently must have known him intimately. The bishop
writes: “Your Laura is only a phantom of your imagination on whom you
exercise your muse. _Un nome imaginario di Laura per avere un oggetto
di cui ragionare._”
Amid such a multiplicity of conflicting opinions where can reliance be
placed!
In 1529, one hundred and eighty years after the death of Laura, a
pretended discovery of her tomb was made at Avignon; but Olivier
Vitalis[31] proves the utter fallacy of this discovery, and shows
the absurdity of the explanation given in support of it. This tomb
is almost universally acknowledged to have been devoid, both inside
and out, of any trace of the name of the defunct, or any date of her
decease. The tomb itself was destroyed in the French revolution, and at
the present day no vestige of it remains.
We see then that this enigmatical Laura has made far more noise in the
world during the last four or five centuries, than she ever did in her
own time. Perhaps contemporary writers were well aware, as some have
asserted, that Petrarch’s sonnets were mere poetical fictions as far
as Laura was concerned. Had it been otherwise, more would surely have
transpired about her during her lifetime. But on the contrary, her
existence is even now thought to be so problematical, that the author
of the article on _Laura_, in Didot’s _Biographie Générale_, refrains
from giving an opinion on the question.
EXECUTION OF JEANNE D’ARC.
A. D. 1431.
History relates that Jeanne d’Arc was led to the stake the last day
but one of May 1431, and burnt alive by a slow fire, and her bones and
ashes thrown into the Seine.
When, in the 15th and 16th centuries, the memory of Jeanne d’Arc
revived in the minds of historians, the subject invariably served
as a theme for controversy and discussion. It is well known that
Charles VII., to reward the bravery of this exalted heroine, bestowed
letters of nobility upon her brothers and their descendants. Documents
discovered by the learned Père Vignier have led to the supposition
that Jeanne d’Arc subsequently married, and was not therefore burnt
at Rouen, as is commonly believed, but that some other poor unknown
creature was sacrificed in her stead. This opinion, which sounds
paradoxical, is nevertheless supported by weighty evidence.
Father Vignier of the Oratory, a learned and zealous philobiblon,
ever in pursuit of literary discoveries, of which so many are due to
the institution of the Oratory, found during a visit to Metz, while
turning over the archives of that city, the following notice, in a
manuscript register of the events that had taken place there during
the 15th century: “In the year 1436, Messire Phlin Marcou was sheriff
of Metz, and on the 20th day of May of the aforesaid year, came the
maid Jeanne, who had been in France, to la Grange of Ormes, near St.
Privé, and was taken there to confer with any one of the sieurs of
Metz, and she called herself Claude; and on the same day there came to
see her there her two brothers, one of whom was a knight and was called
Messire Pierre, and the other “petit Jehan” a squire, and they thought
that she had been burnt, but as soon as they saw her they recognised
her, and she them. And on Monday the 21st day of the said month they
took their sister with them to Boquelon, and the sieur Nicole, being a
knight, gave her a stout stallion, of the value of thirty francs, and
a pair of saddle cloths; the sieur Aubert Boulle, a riding hood; the
sieur Nicole Grognet a sword; and the said maiden mounted the said
horse nimbly, and said several things to the sieur Nicole by which he
well understood that it was she who had been in France; and she was
recognised by many tokens to be the maid Jeanne of France who escorted
king Charles to Reims, and several declared that she had been burnt in
Normandy, and she spoke mostly in parables. She afterwards returned to
the town of Marnelle for the feast of Pentecost, and remained there
about three weeks, and then set off to go to Notre Dame d’Alliance.
And when she wished to leave, several of Metz went to see her at the
said Marnels and gave her several jewels, and they knew well that she
was the maid Jeanne of France; and she then went to Erlon in the Duchy
of Luxembourg, where she was thronged, so much so that the son of the
count of Wuenbourg took her to Cologne near his father the count de
Wuenbourg, and the said count loved her greatly, and when she wished to
come away he had a handsome cuirass made for her to equip her therein;
and then she came to the aforesaid Erlon and there was solemnised the
marriage of Monsieur de Hermoise knight, and the said maid Jeanne, and
afterwards the said sieur Hermoise with his wife the maid, came to live
at Metz in the house the said sieur had, opposite Saint Seglenne, and
remained there until it pleased them to depart.”
Since the discovery made by Père Vignier, this remarkable document has
been inserted in a work entitled: _Chronique de Metz, composé par le
doyen de Saint Thiebaut de la même ville_. This chronicle terminates at
the year 1445.
Vignier might not probably have put much faith in this manuscript,
had it not been supported by a proof which he considered of great
weight. As he was very popular among the best families of Lorraine,
he frequently visited them, and being one day at dinner with M. des
Armoises, member of an old and illustrious race, the conversation fell
on the genealogy of this nobleman, who told the learned father that
among the family archives he would find much information regarding his
ancestors. Dinner was therefore no sooner ended than the keys of the
chamber containing these musty papers were given to Vignier, and he
spent the remainder of the day in looking over numerous old manuscripts
and parchments. At length he fell upon a contract of marriage between
one Robert des Armoises, chevalier, with Jeanne d’Arcy, the so called
Maid of Orleans. I leave the reader to imagine the surprise of father
Vignier at this unexpected confirmation of the manuscript register.
This historical novelty excited a great sensation at the time, as
may easily be supposed. The above extract was inserted in the before
mentioned chronicle, and Dom Calmet placed it among the printed
documents in his _History of Lorraine_.
The circumstance had been nearly forgotten, when, towards the year
1740, a member of the literary society of Orleans, while making some
researches among the archives in the town-hall, found a bill of Jacques
l’Argentier, in which in the years 1435 and 1436 there is mention of
a sum of eleven panes eight cents for refreshments supplied to the
messenger who had brought letters from the maid of Orleans; and another
sum of twelve livres, given by the magistrates on the 21st August 1436
to John du Lis, brother to the maid of Orleans, to help him to pay his
journey back to his sister. He had an audience of the king, who had
granted him a donation of one hundred francs.
Here is a third extract, even more remarkable than the former: “_Au
Sieur du Lis, le 18 Octobre 1436, pour un voyage qu’il fit en la dite
ville, en route vers la Pucelle, qui se trouvant_ _alors à Arlon, au
Luxembourg, et pour port de letters de Jeanne la Pucelle, pour le Roi,
à Loicher, où il résidait alors, six livres parisis._”
And again: “_A. Renard Brune, le 25 Juillet 1435, au soir, pour faire
loire un messager qui apportait lettres de Jeanne la Pucelle et allait
devers Guillaume Belier, Bailly de Troyes, II. s. 83. Parisis._”
The reader must remember that immediately after the execution of
Jeanne d’Arc, there was a common rumour that she was not dead, and
that another victim had been substituted for her. In the _Histoire de
Lorraine_ by Dom Calmet, which only extends to 1544, we read, speaking
of the siege of Compiègne, that the Maid of Orleans escaped in the
crowd, and that no one knew what became of her. Some supposed her to
have been captured and carried to Rouen and burnt, others affirm that
the army was averse to her death.
The chronicle of Metz is still more explicit. After relating the
capture of Jeanne d’Arc, her removal to Rouen, and her death at the
stake, the author adds: “It was so asserted, but since that time a
contrary opinion has been held.”